


Rush

by quiet__tiger



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10639335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Matt has issues. So does John. But together they work things out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal May. 18th, 2008.

John McClane had spent the last three days working on a pain-in-the-ass case and all he wanted to do was go home, have a beer, and go to sleep. So when he heard a cry for help coming from the alley a little ways up, he was pissed because it might mean more paperwork for him to do.

Nevertheless, he ran into the gloomy alley swiftly but cautiously, eyes wide to see what he could see. A large figure pushed past him before he could react, and ran away while John looked for the screamer. A few yards down he could see a girl, a purse, a guy in a hoodie wearing sunglasses...

Assessing that the guy wasn’t armed, he rushed him, tackling him to ground and punching him in the face for good measure. He was going to do it again because he was pissed, but then the skinny figure said, “McClane?”

He held his fist back, barely, and looked at the guy again. Skinny, pale, needed to shave... The figure wiggled his arm out from underneath John’s leg and took off his sunglasses, revealing a cut above his eye from the broken plastic frame. “Kid?”

He scowled. “Matt. And these...” He looked at his busted glasses. “I liked these.”

“Matt. Right. What the hell are you doing robbing the nice young lady?”

“I wasn’t robbing her. I was returning what the mugger down the street stole.”

“What?”

“Ask her.”

John turned to the girl, who stood there wringing the shoulder strap of her bag. “It’s true. That guy,” she pointed toward where John had entered the alley, indicating the man who ran past him, “stole my purse a couple blocks back.” She pointed to the opposite end of the alley. “He,” she gestured towards Matt with the bag, “chased him down and grabbed it back.” She cocked her head. “Somehow.”

“Shit.” John looked back at Matt, who looked up at him... Challengingly? Righteously? In some sort of way that made John resolve to sit on top of him until the expression faded away and became something more akin to ‘Please let me breathe, Mr. McClane, sir.’ “Kid...”

“I was just trying to be a good Samaritan.”

“Yeah. Okay.” So had Zeus all those years ago, and look what he had gotten into. John turned back to the girl. “You okay?” She nodded. “You want to press any charges?”

“No. He didn’t get anything. Thanks to him.” She smiled shyly as she looked down at Matt.

Matt happily said, “You’re welcome.”

John told the girl, “Go on home. And maybe you shouldn’t walk alone at night.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I should be able to walk when and where I want.”

Great. Too stubborn to accept the reality of real danger. “You should, you’re right. But there’s a lot of creeps who want to take advantage of you. In a lot of ways. But the rest of us don’t want to see you hurt. You live near here? Close enough to walk home in a few minutes?”

She sighed but uncrossed her arms. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Just get home safe.”

She walked off, looking carefully in both directions before leaving the alley, and then John turned his attention to Matt. “So. What do I do with you?”

“You could get off of me. Asthma and everything.”

John rolled his eyes but stood, then helped Matt to his feet. “What are you doin’, running around in the dark with sunglasses on? You’re gonna run into something.”

“It’s so people don’t see me.”

“They aren’t a two-way mirror.”

“I mean...” Matt started to pace and flail his hands. “So they don’t know my identity. So I can help people.”

John blinked then stared at him. “What the hell, you think you’re fuckin’ Batman?” He looked him up and down, the skinny little body and the shaggy hair. “Robin?”

“No... Yes. Maybe. I don’t have weapons, or toys. I mean, not yet, but I’m thinking of getting things.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Maybe Matt had actually lost his mind during the Fire Sale after all.

“Don’t you understand? I’m helping people.” He paced more agitatedly, hands clenching spastically. “I see why you do it, I mean, I did, but this is great. Small scale, I mean, muggers and things, not more terrorists, I can’t do them on my own yet, but this, this is good.”

“Matt...” Matt kept rambling. “Matt.” He still didn’t listen, just ranted something about how he felt. “KID.” That finally got his attention, and his head snapped back up to look John in the eyes.

“I’m not a kid.”

“Prove it to me by coming back to my place and slowly telling me what the fuck you’re talking about.”

And he did.

~*~

In the months since the Fire Sale, Matt Farrell had led an interesting life. He explained it all to John while sitting on his couch, nursing a beer he didn’t seem to be enjoying.

Since they’d defeated Gabriel together, and John had gone back to his life as a New York City detective, Matt had started freelance computer work fixing bugs in small corporate networks, website design, system security, lots of little things. No one would touch him for anything big, which the kid resented because yeah, he fucked up when he was younger and people were suspicious now after all the weird press, but he was a good guy. He hadn’t done anything remotely illegal since the Fire Sale except speeding.

He’d also tried a thing with Lucy, which John had known about, but it thankfully only lasted a few weeks, which John had guessed when Lucy stopped talking about Matt in her emails. Her increasingly sporadic emails. He hadn’t gotten one in weeks. No phone calls, either. He didn’t exist again. He wondered if she was still going by McClane.

These basic things about Matt’s life were interesting, but what he really wanted to know was why Matt was running around in New York taking the law into his own scrawny hands, agile though they were.

“The thing is,” Matt eventually said after enough sips of his beer, “the thing is. Once the terror faded away, once everyone was safe and the good guys weren’t dead, I realized that I felt good. Powerful. Like I could do anything.”

“You were high on morphine.”

“I mean later than that, once my knee was put back together. More or less.” Matt kept his eyes on the coffee table in front of them. He certainly didn’t look at John. “I guess... I dunno, maybe... I hadn’t felt that good I don’t think ever. And then I was walking home one night and a guy ran into me and we fell down. He had just robbed a convenience store and wasn’t looking where he was going. The cops who were chasing him caught up with him, arrested him, praised me. I even got a mention in the paper. And then when I wasn’t scared anymore, I realized I felt really good all over again. That I had helped people.”

“All you did was get in the way.”

Matt finally looked up at him. “Sometimes that’s all that’s needed. To be ‘that guy,’ I mean. I don’t have to kill people or blow shit up, which doesn’t mean I won’t if it comes to that again, maybe, but if I can just do a little bit to get someone safe...”

“Kid... You’re gonna get hurt. You’re lucky you haven’t been hurt yet.”

“I’ve been going to the gym. Well, I got one of those home gym things. But I use it.”

“You’ve been lucky.” And he was. Plenty of people breaking up muggings got killed. Being a good Samaritan wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“I’m careful. You just blindsided me because I already chased off the bad guy.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t beat the shit out of you. I was in a shitty mood and you had to go and fuck with it. I could have done a lot worse than just cutting your eyebrow.”

Matt just murmured indistinctively and sipped more of his beer. Then he looked back at John and grinned. “But it’s sexy, right?”

“What, no.” John looked more closely at the damage, and thought about it from Matt’s perspective. “Well, maybe a little.”

Matt blinked in surprise. “Whoa, McClane, I didn’t know you swung that way.”

“I don’t. At least, not for thirty years. And not when sober.” After the words were out of his mouth he regretted letting them spill. No one knew that about him, not even Holly. He didn’t like to admit that drinking excessively led to the occasional gay fling in college.

Matt’s eyes widened. “I was kidding... You. You aren’t?”

It was an out, but he and Matt had been through too much for him to be a shit and lie to him. “No.”

“Oh. Oh, wow.” Matt tried to get up, like he was going to pace again, and John took a second to think if he’d rather have Matt pace or babble, and yanked him back down to the couch by his wrist.

“Just sit. It’s no big deal. It was a long time ago. And we weren’t talking about me. We were talking about you being some fucked up vigilante. What are you even doing in New York?”

“I occasionally get a job around here. I was up checking out their system and decided to take a walk after dinner. Then I ran into that girl getting mugged. And I had to help her. And then you came along and hit me.”

“Just doing my job. And the cops don’t need you doing it for them.” He leveled a patented McClane-glare that the kid ignored.

“But I can’t stop! I don’t think I can just go back to being boring Matt Farrell, not after what I’ve seen and what I did.”

“You’re going to have to. You’re lucky, you have that option. You didn’t have to write an encyclopedia’s worth of reports, haven’t had to live it over and over every time someone connects you with the other crazy shit you’ve gone through. You can go back to being Matt Farrell, Computer Nerd.”

“But I don’t _want_ to. I _like_ the rush. I mean, remember when I was freaking out in the car, and you said it was adrenaline?” John nodded. He thought the kid was going to pass out, the first time of many during their adventure. “Well, that had been way too much danger, way too much shit in only a short time. But the smaller rushes, those I can handle. _Those_ I can do. Do, hell, _need_.”

Great. The kid was an adrenaline junkie. Part of John was almost envious; Matt could do what he wanted and as long as he didn’t get caught, it wouldn’t matter. John couldn’t get away with anything without there being an investigation. There was some glory and then a lot of explaining he had to do. Sometimes being a cop sucked. It must be nice to get the rush and not get weighed down in paperwork afterwards.

Matt hurried on, the words tripping over each other getting out of his mouth. “Like I said, it makes me feel good, useful, in charge, controlling my own destiny or at least helping other people with theirs. And people have been so grateful when I’ve helped, they smile, they hug me, they offer me money, and I don’t accept the money because it’s not what I want, I just want to help people and have them like me, and then I get such a rush from that, and my hair stands on end and I never have trouble breathing and I get hard and I feel like I can do _anything_ , which I know is stupid because I’m just human, I’m not Batman or Superman or some other oddly-dressed guy with ‘man’ in my name, I’m just me, Matt, but _better_ than Matt, Uber Matt, and--”

“Kid. Shut up.” Matt’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. “You have way bigger issues here than I can even hope to cover tonight. You need some therapy for your esteem issues, you need to be knocked on your ass by someone other than me so you learn you’re not Batman and you _can_ get hurt, and you need to find another way to get an adrenaline rush. Like sky diving.” John thought for a moment. “And Batman is human, too, right?”

Matt shook his head at something, but then said, “Yeah, Batman’s human. It was a bad example. But maybe... maybe you have some points with the other things.” He sat quietly again, like when they’d first arrived in the apartment. “But the rush is... I mean, you’ve gotta know what I mean. Killing people was horrible, but visceral on a different level, in a different place, and then knowing we saved the fucking country, basically just the two of us, way more you, though...”

John nodded slowly; he wasn’t a junkie like the kid seemed to be, but he appreciated the occasional strong adrenaline rush. Not over dangerous shit, though. That wasn’t hot. “I don’t do the things I do, that I have done, for the rush. I do it because it’s the right thing.”

“Because you’re that guy.” Matt smiled for the first time that night.

“Right. And so are you. Unless you get yourself killed doing something stupid.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.”

Matt murmured again, then stretched out before folding himself back together. “But it feels good. Better than sex.”

“Maybe you need to have better sex.” Assuming he had had _any_... Nah, he must have. Maybe it was online or some shit, Matt didn’t look like he dated much, but really really good masturbation was almost sex. Kind of.

“Maybe.” Matt looked upset, and John couldn’t figure out why.

This was getting weird, and John was getting uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but you need help. More than I can give you, I mean. Doesn’t fall under my umbrella of skills. But you need something.”

Matt sniffed, and then John realized he was almost crying, or maybe was crying, and though he wasn’t Father of the Year he knew when someone needed comfort. He reached out and pulled Matt to him, and Matt buried his head on John’s shoulder. He could feel the material of his shirt getting damp with Matt’s tears.

“Kid, what’s wrong?” The kid seemed so _lost_.

“I don’t know. But no one’s ever really cared as much as you do.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He had to have a mom or dad around somewhere.

“It’s true. And even if it wasn’t, it’s not like I can talk about my feelings with anyone else. I mean, the stuff about fighting bad guys. Who else do I know who would understand?”

“No one.”

“Which is why you’re stuck with me and my issues. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“I don’t mind.” Because he couldn’t. Part of being ‘that guy’ was accepting when you were someone’s only hope. And right now, Matt needed him to figure himself out.

And John was fine with that.

“Come on, Matt. You should probably get some sleep. I know I need some or work tomorrow will suck more than it has recently.”

He was about to offer his guestroom, uncomfortable though the mattress on the bed was, when Matt quietly asked, “Can I sleep with you?”

_What?_ “No...”

Matt looked horrified. “No! I mean, just sleep. I don’t... I just want...”

Okay, weird territory, and kind of gay, but for some reason John couldn’t bring himself to say no again. Not if the kid needed comfort so badly he was asking _John McClane_. “All right.”

“Thanks.”

John led Matt to his room, where Matt stripped to his boxer-briefs and collapsed onto the bed like he was dropped. After tossing him one of his undershirts to sleep in, John went through his routine and eventually climbed in next to Matt, who appeared to be asleep, but who quietly mumbled, “Thanks.” A thin hand groped in his direction then squeezed his thigh.

“You’re welcome.” John didn’t want to say he was happy to offer whatever he was offering, but he had to admit that it would be nice to have Matt here. For Matt’s sake, and for his own. It was good to see him again, even under these circumstances.

~*~

John was awakened by a body gently rocking against him. The fuck? Then he remembered that he hadn’t gone to bed alone that night, and didn’t he wish the preceding events had included coming rather than crying. He frowned at that thought. Did he want to come with _Matt_ or did his brain mean general orgasms?

He didn’t know.

“Kid.” Sometime during the night, Matt had crossed the invisible line down the center of the mattress and pressed himself against John. “Wake up.”

Matt murmured, eyes moving behind his lids like he was dreaming. “Matt.” John nudged him with his shoulder.

The kid’s eyes suddenly shot open. “What? Shit.” He hastily pulled his body away and appeared to be tugging the borrowed shirt down over the erection he’d been rubbing against John’s thigh a minute ago. “I was. I was having a dream. A really good dream.”

John smirked and asked, “Was I in it?” He didn’t want to know, but he felt like the joke was expected of him.

“Nuh... Not really.” John could tell when people were lying, and Matt wasn’t. Good. The situation didn’t need to get any more awkward.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Shit happens.” Being a guy meant owning unpredictable, traitorous flesh. Like the way he needed to piss and the effect it had on him might give the kid the wrong idea. He swung his legs out of bed, deciding that no matter what time it was, there wasn’t going to be any more sleep before work. At the very least his mind would be racing wondering why he wasn’t angrier that the kid had just been humping him.

“I. Um. Yeah. Understatement of the year, McClane. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Weird and awkward, but okay.

“Yeah. I should go.”

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

“No, just got to check out of my motel by eleven. I’m going back to Jersey this afternoon, I just need to give a final estimate to the insurance company I’m helping.”

“Then stay here, you don’t have to go. Get some more sleep.” John turned around from his seat on the edge of the bed. “You kind of look like shit.”

“Thanks, that helps a lot.”

John smirked. “Just get some sleep.” John finally made his way to the bathroom to piss, shower, and shave, and by the time he got back to his room to get dressed Matt was passed out again.

John shook his head. “What the fuck is going on here?”

On his way out the door he finally gave in to the idea that had been running through his head since he put on his shoes. He left a note for Matt telling him that if he could, he should stay for dinner, and left him the spare key.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted Matt to take him up on the offer or not.

~*~

Fighting bad guys directly with his fists with the rules bent if not broken altogether was a lot easier than tracking them down with clues and following protocol and dealing with shit from his captain, and by the time he got home that night John had almost forgotten that he might have company.

Almost.

He wasn’t sure if Matt would stay, but he was pleasantly surprised to find Matt sitting on his couch, laptop balanced on his legs, some garish cartoon on the TV. The kid looked up at him as he shut the door, and smiled carefully. “Hi. Thanks for the offer.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d take me up on. Thought I’d have to arrest you for gettin’ in the way of police work.”

“No, no, I didn’t see anything today when I was out. Not even a cat up a tree.”

“Good.” John kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch. “Sorry it’s so late, the station is a shitstorm lately, some serial killer bullshit with no leads.”

“Oh.” Matt frowned, and John wasn’t sure if it was at him or at his computer. “I’m sorry. People are just so... So horrible.”

“Yeah, kid. They are. Understatement of the year point for you.”

“Oh, good, then we’re tied so far, right?”

John cocked his head, then smiled. “Yeah. Guess so.” He looked at Matt’s computer screen, but didn’t recognize what he was looking at. “So, food?”

“Sure. But I already checked, you don’t have much.”

“Another understatement point for you.” He had crackers, cereal, pasta, orange juice, beer, and some frozen stuff in the freezer that may or may not still be edible. “I usually eat out, or at work, or get take out.”

“We can order something. I’ll even pay. I got an advance today, cashed it right away.”

He would. “Fine, whatever you want.” Matt wasn’t a girl, so John didn’t feel the need to bicker politely over who paid for dinner or outright insist on paying. He went to the kitchen and returned with a handful of take out menus. “Pick something.”

They went with pizza, which was nice and easy. Matt went to the fridge to grab John a beer and also returned with one of those energy drink things, so apparently his fridge now included those. He hoped they weren’t radioactive.

Conversation was stilted at first; the reason they hadn’t talked much after the Fire Sale was because they didn’t really have anything in common other than terrorists. But eventually they found common ground, sort of.

“How do you even know about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, McClane? I’m surprised you even have a TV. ”

“Well, when you can’t watch cop shows or lawyer shows without wanting to throw something at the TV and sitcoms make you wish you had hair so you can pull it out, it doesn’t leave you much. And Buffy’s kinda hot.”

“Yeah, she kicks ass. And the vamps are cool.”

“Kind of whiny sometimes, but yeah.”

“Angel was better on his own show, without Buffy around.”

“Yeah.” John didn’t really care, and he didn’t remember all that well since both shows had been off the air for years, but it was nice to hear Matt talking about something fairly normal and that he could understand.

Nice and almost comfortable. Definitely nice eating with someone who wasn’t a buddy from work, and sitting somewhere other than at his desk.

Eventually they ran out of things to talk about again. John decided to brave getting the kid to open up again. “You feeling better? Than last night I mean?”

“What? Yeah.” His brown eyes were shifty under the fall of his hair when he turned his head.

“Yeah, right.”

“I am. It felt good to talk it out a little bit.”

“Good. You don’t need to risk danger to make yourself worthy or whatever you’re going for. You saved the country.”

Matt’s laugh was shaky. “Yeah, you know, it was terrifying, and then exhilarating, and now it’s like everyone’s forgotten. Everything’s almost back to normal, so it’s out of sight, out of mind.”

“Don’t get all Thomas Gabriel on me, kid. Don’t go fuckin’ shit up for attention.”

Matt looked like he’d suggested killing his own mother. “I’d never do that!” He stood to wander around the room. “And I wouldn’t do it that way. Things are a lot tighter now. And besides, after everything we went through, I’d hate for you to have to shoot me.”

“Me, too.”

“I want acceptance, not... Loathing. Not fear. Respect.”

John wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Matt wound up in front of his sparse media shelf, fingering his LPs. “Wow, I didn’t notice the record player before. You still use this? I mean, it’s not just for retro decoration?”

“Yeah, kid, I still use it.” He wished Matt didn’t always make him feel like such a washed-up old relic.

“And wow, The Byrds, The Eagles, The Doors, The Beatles... Real challenging band names here, McClane. Particularly The Band.”

“Not every band name needs to be a fuckin’ riddle. Some of us like to be able to know what we’re listening to.” Jack had once left some cds in John’s car; what the hell was a Rage Against the Machine or System of a Down?

“You should get an ipod.”

“You should get some sun.”

Matt turned to smile slightly at him. “This is one of those ‘agree to disagree moments,’ isn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t need as much of that chemical pick-me-up shit if you got out more. Lethargy breeds more lethargy.”

“I like my chemicals. Caffeine, adrenaline, it’s all good stuff.”

Not in excessive quantities. But John didn’t want to argue any more. Instead he cleaned up the remains of their dinner and was rinsing his beer bottle for recycling when he realized Matt was watching him. “What?”

Brown eyes shifted away again, and damned if John didn’t know what he wanted. “It’s a little late. To drive back to Camden. Can I stay with you again?”

John snorted. “Late? I always figured you for a night owl. Almost nocturnal.”

“I’ve been trying to get on a more normal schedule. In case I do land a full time job one of these days, God forbid.”

“You lookin’ for one?”

“I have to grow up sometime, right? So people will stop thinking of me as a kid.” He leveled a pointed look at John.

Damn. “I don’t think of you as a kid. At least, not mentally. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about most of the time, but you got more balls than some of the guys on the force, which is sayin’ a lot. Got trained rookies who couldn’t do what you’ve done.”

Matt beamed at him, features no longer brooding. “Really?”

“I’ve seen more than one piss himself when a perp held a gun on him.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” In New York guys learned quick if they wanted to be a cop after all.

Silence descended again, until John decided to just call it a night. As he headed towards his room, he threw over his shoulder, “You coming? Or do you want the guest room?”

He was unexpectedly pleased when Matt followed him.

~*~

A lonely week and a half later there was a knock on the door to John’s apartment. He was almost asleep and was thus very pissed as he stomped through the place to the door. “You better be fuckin’ Publishers Clearing House.”

“McClane, it’s me. I, I... Can I come in?”

“Matt?” It was a near thing, not calling him ‘kid,’ but the voice on the other side of the door sounded shaky and not in the mood for teasing.

“Yeah.”

John unlocked and opened the door, and Matt practically fell through the opening into his arms. The left side of his face was bruised and bloody, and he was wheezing a little. “Shit, what the hell happened?” John led him over to the couch, and Matt collapsed onto it.

“I was working in Long Island. Didn’t want to drive home yet and went for a walk. I managed to find a seedy part of town, just in case I... You know. Came up on some guys who looked like they were gonna do something to a guy. You know. I couldn’t just let him get hurt. He looked weaker than even I am. I tried to fight, fortunately he got away. Didn’t call for help, the bastard. The muggers, rapists, whoever they were, they got me. Think they broke a rib.”

“Shit, kid.” John shook his head. “They didn’t do anything else?” John would hunt them down himself if they’d touched Matt in that way. And wow, that was an odd shock of possessiveness that just ran through him.

“Nah. Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough.” He smiled weakly at his own joke.

John wasn’t going to touch that one. “They probably just wanted to get away before someone else saw them. Like the cops you should have called instead of taking criminals on by yourself.” He gave him a pointed look, and Matt nodded in resignation.

“I get it, McClane. Can a lecture wait for me to get some sleep?”

“I need to see your rib. See if I can tape it up or if you should go to the hospital.” He went to the bathroom for his first aide kit, and he returned to the living room to the sight of Matt half naked on his couch. It looked like the kid really had been working out. There was actual muscle definition.

Unfortunately, there was an ugly purple bruise covering part of it. John sat down next to Matt and carefully felt the bones underneath the discolored skin. “Doesn’t feel broken. You can breathe okay?”

Matt nodded. “Just regular asthma acting up.”

“Okay. We can tape it up, and if it still feels really bad in a couple days, we can go to the doctor.” It took John a while to realize he’d just implied Matt was staying with him for at least a couple days. Why did it seem so easy to have the kid around?

He used an ace bandage to wrap the wound, then some disinfectant on the cut on Matt’s face. It was almost in the same place as the cut John had give him a week ago. “If this scars, you’re gonna look like Spike.”

Matt looked confused for a second, then smiled. “Right. The scar through Spike’s left eyebrow. Definitely sexy.”

John shook his head slightly as he smirked. “You’re too much, kid.”

“I think I need sleep.”

“Yeah, so do I. I’m usually only up at four in the morning to piss.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know who else to come to, and I didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“It’s okay. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks.” Still bandaging the cut on Matt’s eyebrow, he was close to him, and even dazed and in pain Matt was quick enough to take advantage of the position and kiss him. It was soft and quick, almost enough to not be sure it even happened except Matt looked mortified. “Sorry. I’m just. Confused.”

“Me, too, kid.” But not really that much. Having Matt around last week had been really nice. He hadn’t wanted to admit to himself just how nice. But now that it was staring it in the face... Literally, if he looked into Matt’s wide, scared eyes. “But I’m not drunk enough to figure it out.” Did saying that make him an asshole? He could never tell.

“Oh.”

“Come on. We both need sleep. We can figure things out in the morning. Or when I get home from work. You better be here.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Good.”

Sharing his bed with Matt was even less awkward than it had been last time. At least the kid was where he could keep an eye on him.

~*~

John was awakened this time not by rubbing, but rather mewling. He looked over at Matt, who was curled in on himself and whimpering. Bad dream. He shook him awake carefully, and Matt looked at him gratefully, and when Matt shifted closer to him on the bed, John didn’t push him away or move back.

John might have called out of work, but then his captain would have beat the shit out of him, so when the time came he got ready and left quietly, though he did spare a minute to make sure Matt was sleeping soundly. He seemed to be.

John’s morning was as quiet as it could be; he even had a chance to call Matt to make sure he was okay, but he didn’t answer. The afternoon was another shitstorm as another body with the same killer’s MO as the ones they’d already found surfaced. That meant more investigation, more interviews, another mountain of paperwork, and guaranteed overtime that he for once didn’t welcome.

He called home to tell Matt he would be late; if the kid didn’t answer his cell phone, maybe he’d hear a message on John’s answering machine. He got halfway through his message when Matt picked up the phone. “Gonna be late, kid. Another day, another murder.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know. You feeling better?”

“I went out to get some Extra Strength Tylenol Kicked-in-the-Ribs. I figured the regular aches and pains stuff just wasn’t gonna be strong enough.”

“Good call.”

After another minute, John hung up and got back to work on his case, angry at everything about it. For the first time in a long time, he really wanted to be home rather than working. When they found this guy and brought him into the station, it was gonna be epic.

~*~

After another couple days Matt seemed to be healing okay. It was also no longer odd to see Red Bull in his fridge. Matt also no longer inadvertently woke him up in the morning. They actually managed to settle into some sort of a routine, which somehow led to Matt staying longer than a couple of days.

After a week John finally asked, “Don’t you have to go home for anything?” He reached for another dish to wash so Matt couldn’t read his expression.

Matt finished drying the plate he was working on and stacked it next to the others. “Not really. I have my laptop, and since July I always carry an overnight bag with clothing and stuff with me wherever I go. Just in case.”

“Yeah.” Not a terrible idea.

“Sometimes it’s advantageous to live like a nomad.”

“You’re tellin’ me. I’m a cop, remember? Always got to be prepared.” He tried not to go anywhere without an extra pair of shoes, for instance.

“That’s Boy Scouts.”

“Same shit, basically. Except the prizes are usually worth more than a merit badge.” John frowned. “And sometimes less.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Get down on yourself. You do that all the time. I know you’re messed up, and things haven’t gone well for you, but you’re alive, and the bravest guy I know, or maybe even in the history of the universe, and you deserve better than to put yourself down. Maybe other people don’t see it, and they’re fuckin’ blind, but you’re the man, McClane. Better than Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, shit, I don’t think Buffy could even take you down, and she saved the world a couple dozen times over and came back from the dead three times.”

“You got a bad case of hero worship, kid.”

John had turned to walk back into the living room, but all of a sudden Matt was in front of him and glaring like he was trying to use heat vision or some shit. “Yeah. I worship the guy who saved my life a dozen times in two days, who welcomed me into his home, is trying to help me, and who didn’t throw me out on my ass for coming on to him. Fuckin’ stupid of me, isn’t it.”

Matt turned and stormed towards the door, grabbing his jacket, computer, and backpack along the way. He almost got out the door before John got his brain into gear, which got his body into gear, and he reached Matt in time to slam the partially-open door shut, keeping Matt inside. “Where the hell are you going?”

“You still think of me as some dumb kid who doesn’t know what he wants. Aimless, hopeless, too fucked up for this reality. And sometimes, yeah, maybe that’s a little bit true. But I also know that it’s not just hero worship. There’s a lot of good in you, even if the rest of us need a damn pick axe and a headlamp to find it. And I think that if you really believed I was hopeless and pathetic, you wouldn’t have kept me around. You’d have sent me home or to therapy or the hospital. But here I am still. It’s all got to mean something.”

John had never seen Matt so angry. He’d really hit a nerve. It felt good, to see this side of Matt. He really was more grown up than he appeared to be. Though right now he appeared to be really livid, face red, eyes flashing, breathing a little hard...

“You feel that, kid? You’re pissed. Adrenaline is pumping through you. And you didn’t have to go out and get yourself nearly killed to feel it.”

It was either the totally right thing to say or the totally wrong thing, because the next thing he felt was Matt’s fist connecting with his jaw. Then a thumb rubbed at the place where the knuckles did damage, and then Matt’s mouth was on his again. There was nothing shy about it this time, the press hard and frantic though decidedly unskilled.

John kissed back, a bit afraid that if he didn’t Matt really would leave, and what the hell was wrong with him? After a minute or two, Matt pulled away. “Shit, McClane, what the hell is this? Sometimes you make me so angry, or so rattled, and then here we are, and I hit you and you kiss me back and what the hell is going on?”

John narrowly bit back a smirk; Matt should really be talking to Holly, she’d gone though all those emotions before, ranted about how no one could drive anyone crazy the way he could.

But then she left.

John didn’t want Matt to leave.

“I don’t know, kid. It’s hormones, it’s adrenaline, PTSD, stuck elevator situation, I dunno.”

“Stuck elevator situation?”

“Yeah, like in movies when two characters who fight a lot get trapped in an elevator or a closet or something and talk out all their issues and leave the room all happy and content and shit. You and I got shot at together, almost got killed half a dozen times, and you should really hate me for it, even if I did save your life. We don’t even have anything in common other than that. Yet here we are, we’ve talked shit out, and then... I dunno. You being gay and me not being totally straight is coming to the forefront of it all.”

“I’m not _gay_. I just don’t like girls.”

John made a face at him. “Then I must be workin’ with the wrong definition.”

“Not like that. I mean, I’ve never wanted a girlfriend. Not really interested. Or in guys. And then you came along with your attitude and your awesome luck and your dirt and your wounds and I got all confused and turned on when I shouldn’t have been. Or shouldn’t _be_.”

So his guess on Matt’s virginity had been accurate. “Then why’d you date Lucy?”

“It seemed like the thing to do. She was pretty, we were tied up together... But maybe everything I felt was just the morphine, like you said. And then every time I saw her, I just thought of you.”

“Shit, kid, it’s supposed to be the other way around. You should think of my daughter when you see me. But _don’t_ think of her as an object.”

“I would never.”

“I mean, Jesus, I’m like twice your age.”

“So?”

“So... it’d be weird?”

“What would be weird?”

“If we take this... further.”

Matt’s eyes were wide. “You mean you want to?”

Shit, that was another door John hadn’t thought about opening until he was already through it. He took a moment to compare life without Matt to life with Matt, and what it meant that after all this time he was just done with women, and decided that he’d rather have Matt around than be alone and bitter. “I think so.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.” Sometimes the kid was less articulate than even he was. “But I’d rather we keep it quiet for now.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean, I don’t have any friends I see in real life anyway. Who am I gonna tell?”

John shook his head. “You need a social life.”

“I’ve got you.”

“You’re doomed, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I know.” And maybe he should stop calling him one. But he couldn’t help it.

~*~

A couple shy, awkward, but decidedly enjoyable days later, Matt finally did have to go back to Camden, and John regretted seeing him go. But Matt promised to try to get back up soon.

A few days after that there was finally a break in the serial killer case and they caught the bastard and collected enough evidence to almost guarantee he’d be put away. John and his fellow detectives and officers on the case went out to their stereotypical Irish cop pub, and they all proceeded to get well on their way to wasted in celebration. There was still work to be done, but they had tonight to let loose.

John finally made his way back to his apartment and stumbled through the door. He looked around carefully when he heard awful shit music, and slowly made his way to his bedroom, where the sound was coming from.

Then he saw it was just Matt using his laptop, sitting on his bed, the machine’s speakers apparently blaring the offensive-sounding crap. “What are you doing here?”

“Told you I’d come back soon. And I thought I’d surprise you.” He finally looked up from whatever he was doing and raised an eyebrow at John. “You look happy.”

“Caught our serial killer today. Went out with the guys to celebrate. I feel fantastic.” He stripped out of his gun holster and button-down shirt.

“That’s great. One less sociopathic asshole out there.”

“Yeah, one less asshole to kick you a new one.”

“I’m not doing that any more.”

“No? Good.”

“Well, you pointed out that there are other ways to get a rush, get off, so to speak.”

“Oh yeah?” John kicked off his shoes and pulled off his pants, leaving everything in a pile on the floor.

“Yup. I’d rather do stuff that doesn’t involve me risking getting hurt.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“I thought so, too.”

John climbed into bed. He looked at Matt, who smiled at him easily, with his big brown eyes and goofy shaggy hair, pale skin covered up below his neck by another of John’s undershirts, and when had they become Matt’s? Fighting what little apprehension remained, John leaned over and kissed Matt gently, then more hungrily after his little moan of surprise. “I know you want a different kind of rush, Matt. I think I do, too.”

Matt scowled. “That’s because you’re drunk.”

“Only a little bit. But just because I’m a little drunk doesn’t mean I don’t want this. It just makes it easier.”

“Do you even like guys? Or do you see me as a way to get laid?”

“Shit, Farrell, I thought you wanted this, now you’re questioning it? I told you I like guys, I just haven’t done anything with one in a long time. And excuse me for misinterpreting all your little come-ons over the last few weeks.”

“I’m sorry, I just--”

“Forget it.” John turned the light on his side of the bed off and turned his back to Matt.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

Matt didn’t say anything for a while, and John heard the incessant tapping of the keys on his computer. Finally, though, Matt shut it down, turned off the seldom-used other lamp, and got underneath the covers with him. Maybe John was a little mad, but having Matt next to him still felt good.

It felt better when Matt pressed an awkward kiss to the back of his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. Let’s just work it out in the morning.” And he meant it. Maybe he had trouble telling Holly he was sorry, but there was a lot more wrong with the two of them in the first place. He didn’t want to fuck things up with Matt before they even really started.

~*~

During the night John got up to take a leak, and when he got back to bed he took advantage of Matt being on his side and spooned up behind him. It was nice that Matt fit easily against him; John wasn’t that tall and most of the guys he’d fooled around with in college were bigger than he was. This felt better to his testosterone-laden macho self, as caveman as that was.

A few hours later light was peeking through the blinds, but it was still dark enough that John knew he didn’t have to get up yet. He wouldn’t even be awake but Matt was dreaming again and kicking. They’d have to work on finding out what made the kid dream so vividly. He pulled Matt closer to him and spoke quietly into his ear. “Matt.”

Matt jerked awake. “Shit, sorry, McClane, did I wake you up again?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You have to work and be alert and here I am keeping you up.”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Matt slowly rolled over to look at him.

“Yeah.” Matt smiled slowly, sweetly, and John couldn’t help but kiss him, right on his jaw. Matt turned into it, capturing his lips.

Before things could go any further, and John had no doubt that they would now that they had dropped the pretenses of what was happening between them, John pulled away. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. I probably still taste like beer.”

Matt joined him, toothbrush next to his in the holder. They stood there together in a scene so horribly domestic it almost made John reconsider everything. But then he glanced down at Matt’s lithe little body in gray boxer-briefs and John’s undershirt three sizes too big for him, and he wondered what Matt was thinking about him.

Matt spit first, then rinsed. “I feel better now.”

John spit and rinsed too, and turned to him. “Me, too. All the better to...” He turned them so Matt’s ass was against the sink so he couldn’t move back, and McClane kissed him hungrily like he did the night before, this time feeling a bit better-prepared to make good on the promises the action made.

Matt moaned, and one hand fisted in John’s wife-beater. “Damn, McClane, you’re sure you’re not drunk still?”

“Absolutely. All me, all wanting you. You’re a special one, Matt.” And he had to be, to break through John’s carefully-crafted walls, and in such a short time. Maybe it was ridiculously cliché and stupid, but Matt felt _right_ , and wanting _more_ with Matt felt right. Like nothing had felt right in a long, long time. And it didn’t feel like one of those things that he’d regret later that felt like a good idea at the time; this felt like it was a good idea for now and tomorrow and beyond.

“Shit, McClane...” Matt kissed him as his hips jerked against his. They’d have to find a rhythm before John went crazy. Virgin kid, virgin _guy_ , this could all be really great or really awful for one or both of them.

He put his thigh between’s Matt’s so he’d have something to rub against, and the kid took advantage of it. “Shit, McClane, I think...” Then Matt was coming, his body shaking against him, and John held onto him and rubbed his back until he calmed down.

“You okay?”

Matt’s eyes snapped open, looking a bit wild. “I... Yeah, wow, I don’t... Whoa. That was... Maybe that _was_ better than fighting muggers.”

Hell, that was just _rubbing_. John hadn’t even _touched_ him. “Wait ‘til I get my hands on you.”

“Yeah? I mean, soon? Maybe? Or, wait, you’d want to do more? That was good. For me I mean. Oh, wait, did you, did you need, yeah, you need a hand.” He blushed. “Right?”

“I’m fine, kid.” Horny, yeah, but also surprisingly happy. Matt was looking at him like he’d given him a free lifetime supply of giga-things for his computer, and it made John feel good. He’d take a shower before work and take care of himself.

“Really? Because I could. Something. I mean, I know what to do. In theory.”

“Well, in theory, we could do something for me, but in actuality I need to get to work.” He didn’t want to say he probably wouldn’t come at the drop of a hat like Matt.

Matt looked so disappointed... “Oh. Yeah.”

“But I’ll be home regular time tonight, unless something else goes wrong. And then we can maybe get to know each other a little better.”

Matt stuttered out, “O-o-okay.”

John frowned. “But we’ll go at your pace. I don’t want you to regret anything. Or move too fast.”

“We won’t.”

“We’ll see.” Because if John got what he wanted right now he might just turn the kid around and fuck him against the sink, but Matt probably wasn’t ready for that.

Soon, hopefully.

“Go back to bed, Matt. First, take a shower, then go back to bed.”

“Okay.” He stood more solidly on his feet from his position leaning against the sink. “Yeah. This is... Not an unfamiliar sensation, but not a welcome one, either. It’s been a while since I’ve come in my pants from a dream or something.”

“Almost did a couple weeks ago.”

Matt blushed. “Yeah, how about we not talk about that?”

“Fine by me.”

John left Matt to shower, and set about pulling some sort of breakfast together. The whole time the morning’s events flashed through his head, over and over. Was he pushing Matt too far? Were things moving too fast? How could it be too fast or too far if it felt so good?

There weren’t any answers, and he was looking forward for the distractions at work that day putting together a case for trial.

~*~

_I’ll be home regular time tonight, unless something else goes wrong._

Famous last words, and how fucking stupid had it been to jinx himself like that?

It wasn’t the first time the world seemed to be against John McClane in particular, but this time it seemed decidedly unfair. Some shit had hacked into the computer network at the precinct and effectively shut it down. Must have been one of the assholes Bowman hadn’t been able to find during the Fire Sale. Or some new piece of shit who didn’t care about the Fire Sale or the crack down on illegal hackers afterwards. It added a lot of stress and confusion into his day, a day that had started off with some simple sex and him almost whistling a tune as he sat at his desk that morning.

Hours and hours later he trudged home, the thought of Matt waiting for him the only thing keeping him from ducking into a bar on the way. Matt smiled at him when he came in, but obviously noticed right away that something was wrong. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Computer network got fucked. Can’t do shit with it.”

Matt was instantly on his feet. “Why didn’t you call _me_? That’s what I _do_!”

“Chief is tryin’ our guys first. Doesn’t want to go outside or get word out. Believe me, I thought of you right away.” Thought of, hell, was having flashbacks.

“If it’s someone smart enough to do in the police they’re probably three or four steps ahead of your guys. But easy for me. Come on.” Matt walked past McClane to the door.

“Where are you goin’?”

“To your station to go fix your computers.”

“I told ya, they don’t want outside help.”

“They’re probably gonna need it, no matter what they actually want. I’m the best, right? Otherwise Gabriel wouldn’t have hired me and wanted me so dead.”

John hung his head in resignation. “Okay, kid. Back to the station.”

~*~

Matt had been right, of course, not that John had doubted it. He and the other guys still around had watched him work, fingers dancing over the keyboard, digging through lines of code or whatever and whatever safeguards the other guy had until Matt finally broke through. He found the IP address thing of the other guy (or girl, since it was someone named Gina) and brought the network back up.

John hadn’t seen Matt grin as widely as when he sat back and announced things were back to normal as far as he could tell. Cops gave him pats on the back and squeezed his shoulders and gave him high fives, and John couldn’t help but grin at him. Matt was _happy_. He was doing what he was born to do and loving it. It was great to watch.

The standard network guys for the station looked chagrinned, but too damn bad. They just weren’t geniuses like his Matt. ... _his_ Matt? Shit. He had it _so_ bad for this kid, like some fucking high school crush. But couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

After profound thanks from the chief, John and Matt headed back to John’s apartment, Matt babbling the whole way about how he’d done what he did. John couldn’t understand more than every eighteenth word out of the kid’s mouth, but that was okay. He didn’t have to.

Once inside Matt practically bounced off the walls. “I got to help the _police_ , McClane! That’s so much more satisfying than a bank or something. And your friends were really cool.”

John wouldn’t call them friends, but they did work together almost every day. “Glad you’re excited, kid.”

“Excited, hell, I feel...” Matt stopped his hand mid-flail and slowly brought his arm down. “This is why I did what I did before the Fire Sale. I _liked_ doing this kind of thing. Finding weak spots, building codes, math-based security, all of it. Then having a truly worthy opponent during the Gabriel thing was the ultimate high, I guess moreso than the violence. But then afterwards I was too afraid to do anything like this, directly go against another hacker, because I didn’t want the government breathing down my neck, trying to lock me up for being a terrorist even after I saved the country. The occasional security job afterwards hasn’t been hard or all that satisfying. And then the first vigilante thing happened, and it felt kind of the same way...” Matt exhaled heavily and made his way over to the couch, which he dropped onto like a guy who weighed way more than he did.

John made his way over to the couch and sat down next to Matt. “You get a little bit of a rush each time, then a huge one during and after the Fire Sale, and then you needed to feel it again but didn’t know how. Then with everything... different cause, same effect.”

“Shit. Wow. I feel like such a... Such a fool. I just really liked the job I was already doing, I didn’t need to go out of my way to find trouble.”

“Hey, don’t. None of that. I thought we were both done with feeling sorry for ourselves.”

“I guess not.” Matt folded in on himself, and John didn’t care if it was a defensive posture like a cornered cougar and Matt might bite his hand off, he reached over and bodily pulled him closer.

“No. More. Woe-is-me. Shit. That’s my thing, and you can’t have it.”

Matt let out a shaky laugh. “You’re so selfish.”

“Selfish like a fox.” Or something. Shit. Why did he go and say stupid things all the time? No wonder Matt thought of him as an old fool.

“You’re something, McClane.”

“I get that a lot.”

Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t an awkward one. John rather enjoyed having Matt in his arms, sprawled half on his lap and half against his chest. He idly played with Matt’s hair, liking the feel of the soft fibers between his fingers. It was amazing how something so simple felt so exotic when you didn’t feel it on a regular basis anymore.

Playing with his hair gradually became massaging his scalp, until Matt gave a little happy moan. “Feels good.” Hmm. John worked his way down to Matt’s neck, where tension was corded tightly.

“You need a massage, kid. You’re really tense.” What the kid could probably use was _release_ , but a massage first couldn’t hurt.

“Go for it.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom. It’ll be more comfortable.”

John led them, wondering if this was going to be just a massage that would help the kid sleep, or elaborate foreplay for something more. Either would be good.

He settled Matt on the bed facedown, wearing his jeans but no shirt, and reached onto his nightstand for lotion. He didn’t have any fancy-ass massage oil, so it would have to do. Matt didn’t complain; he lay there quietly, moaning periodically as John worked his fingers into knotted muscle. It was nice to see that the kid even _had_ muscle.

Neck, shoulders, sides, lower back, repeat, stretching, kneading, circles, anything he could think of to help work out the tension. It seemed to be working, and soon Matt’s little moans were making John wish someone would come touch _him_ and give him a little release.

Matt mumbled something into the mattress. “What?”

“I said, ‘Can we have sex?’”

John’s hands froze. “Are you sure? It’s been a stressful day.”

“What better way to end it than to help each other come?”

“Are you sure this isn’t moving too fast for you? Didn’t you only come for the first time with someone else like eighteen hours ago?”

Matt pushed himself up on one elbow to look back at him. “Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough? And it doesn’t feel like I’m rushing with you.” His eyes widened, as if in realization of something. “It feels right. I don’t know why, but it does. I’ve thought about it, a lot, and I want to do this. If you want to.”

“Yeah, I want to.” He gave himself a point towards Understatement of the Year. “I just have to be sure that you do.”

“I’m not some fragile damsel. I won’t break.”

“Well good, ‘cause that’d make a hell of a mess on my sheets.”

Matt shook his head. “You really know how to turn a guy on.”

“Kid, you have no idea.” Quickly, John got off of Matt and flipped him over then settled on top of him. Not surprisingly, the kid was already hard, the head of his cock poking out from the waistband of his boxer-briefs. This pair was red. Looking back up into Matt’s eyes, John bent down and kissed him fiercely, tongue in Matt’s mouth as he tried to keep up. He didn’t have a chance, though, and eventually just let John do what he wanted.

It seemed to work out for both of them, since John was harder than he’d been in a long time and Matt was thrusting up into him regardless of the way the zipper of his jeans must be digging into sensitive flesh. “How about we get out of these clothes?”

“That’s a great idea.”

John stood and stripped quickly, watching as Matt wriggled out of his jeans and boxers. He almost got everything tangled up in his sneakers, but fortunately avoided that disaster. John didn’t have a problem with his own clothing, though he was oddly a bit self-conscious. He was twice Matt’s age, doing his best to fight off that middle age spread thing, and he knew his chest and back (and arms and legs) were covered in scars. Hardly handsome, certainly not something a young kid would want, not for his first time. But Matt was looking at him in awe, like he was a fuckin’ porn star or something.

Maybe since John didn’t care that Matt was pale and scrawny, Matt didn’t care that John was old and worn.

He straddled Matt’s slim thighs, and ran a hand up and down his chest. “You’re sure about this, kid?”

“Yeah. Don’t back out on me now.”

“Is it okay if I pitch? It might be better for your first time, just to get an idea for how things go.”

“Does that mean you’re on top? That’s okay.”

“Good.” John was pretty sure it would be more work for him to bottom, so he was glad Matt agreed with him.

He squirted some lotion on his hand and wrapped it around Matt’s cock, stroking it slowly. Matt hissed and sucked in a breath, held it, then let it out in a whoosh. “Wow.”

John raised an eyebrow. “If you think that’s good, you aren’t gonna last very long once I start to do more.”

“Then you’d better hurry.”

John bent down to lick at one nipple, which caused Matt to rock up into him. He tried the other one with the same result. He wondered just how sensitive Matt was there, but decided that he’d rather they get through some simple sex without taking too much time to explore.

He focused back on Matt’s cock, then balls, then his perineum, which he stroked carefully with his thumb to gauge how Matt reacted to being touched in such an intimate place. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

He realized they didn’t have lube and would have to use the lotion, which wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Matt wouldn’t know the difference. John would just have to make it all extra good.

He squirted lotion onto his fingers and set about teasing and prepping Matt, who spread his legs wider when John asked him to and didn’t hesitate or jerk away at anything. Not at the first push inside with his thumb, or the first finger, or the second. His cock wasn’t fully hard anymore, but John could work with that later.

“Matt, you okay?”

Matt kind of huffed out a breath then answered, “Yeah. Feels weird, but not bad. Kind of like I need to pee.”

“It’s gonna. Give it a few more minutes.”

John worked slowly, giving Matt’s virgin body time to adjust to the intrusion. He crooked his fingers to find the gland, and knew he hit it when Matt’s hips jerked. “Do that again, McClane.” John grinned and complied. “That’s... really good.”

“Yeah. It’s why all guys should have some anal sex at least once in their lives.” He rubbed the gland again and again until Matt was hard and writhing on his fingers. “You think you’re ready for more, kid?”

His eyes had been squeezed tight, but he opened them to answer. “Yeah. Yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” Because John was so hard it kinda hurt, watching Matt enjoy himself so much. He hoped he liked his cock that much.

He dug around in his nightstand, praying that one of the condoms in there wasn’t expired yet. He finally found one that had about a month to go. He really needed to go to the store, stock up. If Matt wanted to do this again, anyway. And he really hoped he did.

He rolled the condom on and slathered some more lotion on it. He lined himself up and put one of Matt’s legs over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Matt bit his lip like he was nervous, but nodded then confirmed, “Yeah.”

The first push in was a little difficult and a lot slow, but eventually John worked himself inside. Matt was tight, as he knew he’d be, and hot, as he should be, and completely wonderful around his cock. Not wanting to push too hard, he kept his movements slow, even though he wanted to pull out and pound him hard. But this was for Matt, not him. He may be the biggest asshole on the planet who wasn’t a bad guy, but he didn’t want Matt to think he didn’t care, didn’t want to make this a bad experience just for his own gain.

Gradually he worked into a steady rhythm, listening carefully to Matt’s breathing, watching his face for any wincing or other signs of pain. When he saw them he slowed down until Matt said he could go again.

John wrapped a hand around Matt’s flagging cock, jerking it back to full hardness. He felt Matt shiver and worked harder, feeling him shudder more. Matt’s breathing got more and more erratic, harder, breathier the longer John worked.

At Matt’s groaned out “ _God_ ” John lost it, orgasm taking him by surprise for the first time in a long time. He came hard as he leaned over Matt, watching the slide of his cock in and out of him.

When the aftershocks were finally over, he realized Matt hadn’t come yet, and set about getting him off right away. It didn’t take long, Matt babbling and cursing all the while, until his body seized as he shot his load all over his chest and stomach in impressive bursts.

John bent down and kissed him until he stopped shaking, finally opened his eyes to look at him. “Hell, McClane. You definitely don’t do anything half-assed.”

“You okay? Was it good?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow, it was so good. Or look at you without thinking of your cock inside of me.”

“Then I did a decent job.”

“Yeah, fucking me to within an inch of my life definitely qualifies as decent.”

“Good.” John pulled out and cleaned them both up, and groaned when he glanced at the clock and realized he had to be at work in a couple of hours.

Matt must have seen him because he asked, “Can you call in sick?”

“I shouldn’t, not until I know things are back to normal.”

“Oh.”

“But maybe I can come home early.”

~*~

John did go in a bit late and did come home early, only to drag Matt back to the station after telling him to dress as nicely as he could. He didn’t answer Matt’s questions about what he wanted and what was going on, only brought him to the chief’s office and sat him down.

The chief watched them, perhaps cataloguing the intimate actions between them, and John hoped it wasn’t going to become a _thing_. But the chief only looked at Matt. “Mr. Farrell.”

“Yeah. Uh, yes, sir.”

“What you did last night was very impressive.” Matt flushed bright red and John closed his eyes for a second and hoped the chief didn’t say anything else that could be interpreted suggestively. He only raised an eyebrow before continuing. “Our network runs more quickly than it did before, and we had no loss of data. The perp is being charged.”

“That’s, that’s good.”

“I’d like to formally thank you, and also offer you a job.”

“A job?” Matt’s eyebrows rose almost theatrically.

“Yes. We need to be sure that nothing like this can happen again. I’d also like to be sure that our records are kept securely, and that our various systems in this bureau are top notch, because I’m fairly certain that if this one wasn’t, none of them are. I think that you have the experience and skills necessary for the job. If it works out here, I’m sure the other bureaus could use the help. At the very least I’d like to make sure that our systems aren’t as penetrable as they always appear in movies or television. What do you say?”

“Wow.”

The chief smiled slightly. “Anything else?”

“Uh...” Matt glanced at John, and he hoped the smile he gave him in answer was encouraging. “Sure. Yeah. It’ll be great, I mean, I’m pretty good at this stuff, it’d be fun to make some money at it.”

“Excellent. I’ll have the paperwork drawn up and you can start as soon as possible.” The chief stood and so did Matt, and shook his hand. “Have a good afternoon.” The chief glanced at John. “You can take the rest day off, McClane. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

He and Matt left the station, and once they were out on the street Matt stopped him. “Did you do that? Get me that job?”

“What? No. You got yourself the job. Chief asked me about you this mornin’, said he was impressed with you, wondered if you could take on something more regular. I told him yeah. Sorry to step on your toes.”

“You’re not, you’re not stepping on my toes.” Matt grinned. “I get to work with the police. Regularly. With more chances to battle hackers and cyberpunks. I used to hate cops, but I guess they’ve grown on me.” He smirked at John.

He grinned back. “I thought you’d be excited.”

“Yeah, wow. I have to... I need to move up here. I can’t commute from Camden.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me.”

“Full time?”

“Yeah, kid. Full time. So I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t get into too much trouble.”

The expression on Matt’s face was one of shock and happiness and incredulousness, and seeing it made him feel better than saving the country did. Maybe John had the skills to help the kid after all, get him over being lost in his own identity. Then Matt smirked slyly. “And maybe we can have more sex.”

“Every chance, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I’ll have to try to stop calling you that.” But he figured that Matt knew that was going to be as difficult for him as it was going to be for Matt to stop calling him ‘McClane.’ “Come on, Matt. Let’s go home and relax.” Matt had a dopey grin on his face. “Or not relax, as the case may be.”

Entering his-- _their_ \--apartment, John thought about what it would be like to have Matt here with him permanently. Going to work with him, having that domestic bliss thing he’d read about in magazines. Maybe they were rushing things, and he was sure they had some issues to work out, and maybe the whole thing was destined for failure. But maybe not for a long time.

He felt his own little adrenaline rush at the thought, and smirked as he pressed Matt up against the door to kiss him.


End file.
